Wednesday, 28 November 2012

better late than never low in the southwestthe full moon a half degree wide.................just after sunset peeping.........later still, indigo cheesecloth nightRedwood cloaked in fograccoons moving from floor to floor,........from room to room in the fog,with a sound like thin paper tearing.

You’ve captured beautifully the aural qualities of night. It reminds me of something Faulkner wrote early on: of car tires passing over a rain-wet pavement, making a sound like ripping a piece of silk. A more exact recall is now beyond me, but the use of "silk" made a lasting impression.

They are amazing creatures. I was picking the paper up off the lawn at daybreak a few years ago when a neighbor alerted me to a fat coon sitting on top of our chimney. Part of the family that lives under our shed, I think. Great photos.